New Yorker reveals that the NRA is in a dire financial state, running annual deficits of up to $40,000,000 in recent years while a small group of execs, contractors, and venders have extracted hundreds of millions the NRA's budget.https://t.co/IqEfe8Sf8l— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) April 18, 2019

Heck, I assumed Prince was bankrolling this new grift. Unlike Bannon (who lost his sugar mama, Rebekah Mercer), Prince can fund a little summer-camp side project like Bannon’s Proud Boy Gap Year with the interest on his ex-Blackwater company’s interest.

I hate dating, I really hating having to be ‘the man’, and pick where to go, and what not.. I like doing the take charge thing when I’m in a leadership role, but not really during my social time. I turn 50 in about 3 weeks, and I’m not even having a birthday party, that’s how lazy I am.

Ya, hear ya. Me, am a conscientious objector, far’s portentious official stilted “dating” goes. If two peeps agree to go out with open minds and willing hearts to see what might could be and are willing to hazard the emotional consequences, I’m in. Things develop freely, naturally, organically, or — they don’t. Which is OK.

Kinda look at it like this: If a woman requres going onna official “date”, i.e. with alla artificiality and fakery that generly entails, no thanks. (Not saying it can’t be done, cuz it can — peeps do it! — just that it generly isn’t a successful formula; generly most “dates” entail two peeps acting quite unlike themselves, adhering to dictates to which neither agrees or can sustain.)

Non-date culture (i.e. declaring who you are rather than deliberately artfully concealing it) is a self-selecting society. I like that. Honesty upfront. All or nothing. (Which does not preclude, necessarily, hooking up; some peeps actually appreciate honesty and like to fuck anyway. Go figure.)

Got no interest in me (or her!) tryn’ta fake it till you, me, we make it. Life is short. Say who you are and take your chances.

Will say: After my wife was killt inna car crash 14 year back, went a little crazy for a coupla years, then started looking (life goes on or you give up). As I creep into my dotage, find it’s easy enough to hook up, but *very* hard to find one’s simpatico. Mostly, I expect I’m at fault for this (as with most things, alas). When you’re with someone new, you getta sense, purty fucking quick, of whether you wanna spend your life with them, and, guided by the hoary hand of time and experience, you kinda know whether it’s gonna work. Have sorta likened it to the process of reduction in making maple syrup, boiling things down to their essence.

Putta request in at the library to try’n track some down Dollhousian jams, but no go (done a search on the library web site and din’t nothing come up, but our library folk — who I loves — is *very* good at bloodhounding all sorta esoterica, so am hopeful).

How’s yer bionic-knee convalescence, btw? ‘Member you being pushed back to work a lil’ earlier than was optimal. Was hoping you reclaimt the mountain goat as yer spirit animal.

That’s because the “Judeo” in “Judeo-Christian” refers to Jews for Jesus. I’m not kidding about that. Evangelical eschatology states that exactly 144,000 Jews will convert to Christianity post-Rapture and all the rest will be personally exterminated by Jesus Christ upon his return … and this is presented as a good thing.

There was lots of genocidal mania in the Old Testament, mostly either committed by gawd hisself or by his chosen people at his command. All that was in theory replaced in the period 15-35 AD by the newest messenger from gawd, who was supposed to bring peace and love thy neighbors. Somehow that didn’t work out quite like that.

Regarding the original post, the Republican Talent Pool mostly closely resembles one of the Smithfield Farms hog waste ponds in North Carolina, you know, one of those vast ponds of poison spread all around the countryside every time there’s a tropical storm that hist the East Coast. Not too deep, but equally toxic all over the pool.